


our son the goatherd

by Siriusstuff



Series: Teodor Claudius Talan Stilinski-Hale [18]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Parenthood, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, rating is for some language and non-explicit talk of sex at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9617363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusstuff/pseuds/Siriusstuff
Summary: Stiles's and Derek's kid wants a kid of his own.





	

**Author's Note:**

> See end note for translation of restaurant's name.

As the end of their child-free Sunday neared, Stiles and Derek still lay naked in their bed. Just their heads touched and side by side they held hands.

Derek brought their intertwined fingers to his mouth, kissed Stiles’s knuckles.

After savoring the feel of Derek’s soft lips, Stiles pulled their united hands to his face for his turn kissing them, and was just about to suck one of Derek’s fingers into his mouth when his phone alerted.

He read silently, put down the phone, sighed.

“Melissa says they’re leaving Red Bluff now.”

Derek only grunted.

“We have an hour to shower and make it look like we haven’t been fucking for the past six.”

A few silent seconds passed.

“It wasn’t the whole six hours,” Derek said, sounding a little like he didn’t believe his own words.

“Past five and three quarter hours,” Stiles amended.

Derek giggled. He rolled over, half on top of Stiles, hummed in contentment. The scent of satisfaction wafting off his husband always reminded him of a clover meadow he’d run through chasing butterflies as a boy.

Derek loved fatherhood, would give his life for his little son—but he could also revel in the rare opportunity to lay with his bare ass exposed after some uninhibited conjugal love-making in the middle of the day.

“What a wonderful five and three quarter hours,” he crooned.

“We can pokey-pokey, one last round, in the shower,” Stiles said, then yawned.

“Mmm,” was Derek’s response.

Neither moved a muscle.

“Come on, hubsy-wubsy. Let’s get all soapy and slithery.” Stiles yawned again. “You poke me, I poke you. By the time Dad, Mel and Tay get back we’ll be downstairs looking like we’ve been in church all afternoon.”

“You mean, utterly bored?” Derek asked.

Stiles giggled. “Yeah, right?”

“And, uhhm, ’hubsy-wubsy’?” Derek felt compelled to add.

“Spousey-wousey better?”

Derek snorted. “Please, stop.”

“Matey-watey?”

“Pirates now?”

“ _Arrrrgh!”_

“ _Stiles_.” Derek laughed. He had to.

Stiles groped for a handful of Derek’s butt.

“It’s me booty!” he clamored in the cliché gruff pirate voice.

“It’s _my_ booty.” Derek wiggled it.

Squirming from underneath him and clambering onto Derek’s back, “’Tis _me_ booty now, ye swab!” Stiles decreed, frotting against the firm cheeks as Derek stilled, seemingly receptive, even arching his back. But it was just a ruse.

Derek bucked upward, nearly pitching Stiles to the floor.

Stiles snarled in a bad impersonation of an alley cat, poised to pounce on him again but Derek had already flipped to his back, also like a cat.

Grappling, laughing like idiots, that’s how they finally got themselves out of bed and into the shower.

 

Still with time to spare they stood in their kitchen a while later.

“OK,” Stiles declared closing the refrigerator. “We have no dinner prepared. So, so we don’t look like lazy no-good parents I’m just gonna call Melissa and tell her we’re taking everyone out to eat.—Good plan?”

“Good plan,” Derek agreed, hugging Stiles close once more and kissing him as if in reward for his fine thinking, but really because he felt like kissing him again.

The truth was their long amorous afternoon had left them both slightly vacant in the brain, and though Derek had never been the type to use an expression like “come-dumb,” maybe that’s what they were, both of them, at that moment.

They’d have to work their way back to resuming their dutiful parental roles—and they had approximately ten minutes remaining to get there.

“Tay likes that Italian place,” Stiles remembered. “What’s it called? _Gucci’s_? No.— _Coochies_? No.”

Come-dumb Stiles reminded Derek of their early days together and made him laugh a little helplessly, dropping his head against Stiles’s shoulder.

“ _Stop_ ,” he said. “I remember where it is.”

“Good. Dad’ll be happy to eat a big bowl of macaroni—and I won’t even care if he covers it in cheese.”

They’d let the Sheriff take their Prius for the day’s outing because Teo’s car seat was already in place in its back seat, and Stiles’s dad was adept at driving all kinds of vehicles.

With his enhanced hearing Derek recognized the sound of the engine, quiet as it was, as the car turned onto their street. He and Stiles were outside when the travelers arrived.

“Teo’s heart’s really thumping,” he said.

“Aw! He’s happy to see us!” Stiles assumed, hurrying to the car and noting Teo’s eagerly attempting to free himself from his seat—which he was not supposed to do.

Stiles freed him and helped him out. Teo seemed already at the pitch of highest excitement, paying no attention to his fathers’ efforts at welcoming him home.

“ _Papa! Daddy! Papa!”_ he trumpeted. “Can we go back there!”

Stiles had squatted to Teo’s eye level. “What?—Wait.—Don’t I get a kiss first?”

Teo complied hastily then Derek lifted him up, “Me too!” and stole a kiss from his very distracted child. He put him right back down.

“There was goats! Baby goats!—They were so _little!”_ Teo lowered his hand to about a foot above the ground.

“I _love_ them!” he cried, pitching back his head.

Stiles eyed his dad from across the roof of the car. “Goats?” he questioned without voice.

John started to explain but Teo was still declaiming in full force.

“And—and—an’ we got them food and—they _eated outta my hand!”_ he half-shouted, holding out his hand, palm up.

_“Ate,”_ Stiles corrected. “You know that word.”

Teo did but his awareness of correct grammar was going down in the tidal wave of his need to tell everything at once.

“Ated.—Ate.—They _ate_ outta my hand, Papa!” Then he held out both hands together, the gesture of offering.

“And they jump!—Like this!” Across the lawn he bounded away, making short sideways jumps, kicking up his heels, and still talking.

Melissa began explaining before Stiles asked. “There was a petting zoo, with mostly farm animals. There were lambs and kids in a pen. The kids really took a liking to Teo.”

Teo had circled back by then and heard Melissa say “kids.” But they hadn’t been _kids_ ; they’d been _baby goats_. Teo had to say so, though very quietly, because it was _Missa_ he was correcting, and that was just like saying _Big Poppa_ was wrong.

“’Kids’ are what you call baby goats, Tay,” Derek explained. “Just like baby cats are _kittens_ , and baby dogs are _puppies_.”

This was information Teo didn’t find very convincing, because _he_ was a kid, and the kids in the pack were _kids_ , and Maddox was a _kid_ but the baby goats were _different_. They were not like anything else Teo had ever seen—nothing like _kids_.

“If he wants to call them baby goats—” John said, when he noticed the sort of frown on his grandson’s face.

“He can call them baby goats,” Stiles assured.

“I want to call them baby goats,” Teo confirmed, sounding still a little tentative.

His son’s cautious assertion made Stiles’s heart overflow with affection. He backed Teo against his legs, the boy’s head just about at his waist, and patted the slender chest—only to stop abruptly when Teo half twisted around, looking right in Stiles’s eyes, to ask, “Papa, can we ge—”

“Tay!” Stiles interrupted instantly, knowing how that question would finish, “You’re hungry, right? We’re going to that place you like, with the meatballs you like, for dinner!— _Meatballs!_ Yay! Right?—Now let’s go in so you can wash your hands!”

Teo repeated, “Meatballs!” and Stiles’s distraction proved a success since the boy said nothing more while he was hurried toward the house. But first Stiles had to get past Derek and his eyebrows, furrowed preceding a question he didn’t get to ask before Melissa cut in with: “Oh, you mean _Grazia’s Cucina_?—Yummy!”

For someone who spent many shifts of long hours in a hospital Melissa McCall was remarkably familiar with restaurants and finer eateries, their names at least. Stiles figured picturing herself enjoying meals in fancy dining rooms was Melissa’s escape fantasy.

He’d heard her say the restaurant’s name and to Derek’s still puzzled face bragged, “See? I got the _coochie_ right!”

Derek let Stiles’s ridiculous boast derail whatever question he’d been poised to ask and didn’t even attempt holding back his laughter.

“You always get the _coochie_ right, Stiles,” he replied.

John did _not_ want to know.

“Hey, we’ve got some things in the trunk for you,” the Sheriff called aloud.

Derek joined Melissa and his father-in-law at the back of the car as Stiles escorted Teo indoors.

“We brought you some marmalades,” Melissa said, opening up a bag, “and relishes,” pointing at another.

There were three bags in the trunk and Derek picked up all three.

“No, wait.” Melissa took back the third bag. “This one’s for Scott and Isaac. And I got this for Maddox.”

She pulled out and unfurled a little t-shirt declaring “Grandma thinks I’m _awww_ some.” But despite her smile Derek smelled disappointment. Scott and Isaac hadn’t been able to join in on the day trip and Maddox was currently at a stage where he absolutely refused to be separated from his fathers.

She refolded the shirt and stuck it back in the bag, her returning disheartened mood from earlier in the day fully apparent to Derek, via scent.

In unspoken understanding, “It’s a phase. It passes,” he tried soothing, though he could speak only from knowledge he’d acquired by reading, not through experience.

“Teo never went through it.—It was Stiles who wouldn’t let Teo out of sight.”

The Sheriff spoke up, “You know Stiles says exactly the same thing about you.” He loved reminding Derek what a softie he was. Also he still hadn’t forgot what effort it once required, getting either of them to relinquish their baby boy to his care.

Derek ducked his head. “Yeah… well…” but he had no defense so he let it drop.

Ever gracious, John segued into a more universally agreeable subject. “I keep hearing about an Italian dinner, and I’m starving.”

 

Back indoors, Derek set down the bags on the kitchen table. Stiles and Teo were nowhere to be seen but he could hear them still in the bathroom, Stiles talking and talking but about what Derek couldn’t tell.

Not until they started down the stairs.

Derek stilled, suddenly and intently interested in the contents of the bags: orange marmalade, orange and peach marmalade, kumquat marmalade… He lined up the jars on the table top.

“Daddy!” Stiles’s cheerful yet vaguely alarming tone behind his back made Derek wince. “Guess what Teodor just asked me!”

They’d stopped in the doorway, Teo against his papa’s legs again.

“I don’t know,” Derek answered warily. He was not telling the truth but as long as he focused on Stiles his heartbeat might not betray him. He hoped.

Much too invested in getting the answer he’d wanted since leaving the petting zoo pen, Teo didn’t notice any heartbeats. He got right to the point.

“Can I get a baby goat, Daddy?”

“Oh!” Daddy said, looking down at Teo then right back at Stiles. “A baby goat… Like a pet?”

Stiles began to wag his head. “No, Daddy,” he huffed, lowering his voice. “For cheese production.” He grimaced at his husband, ended his retort with a fierce head-shake.

Derek grimaced in return. Looking at Teo, “Well, what did Papa say?” he fudged.

Stiles fired back. “Papa said ask Daddy!”

Derek reminded himself he was an adult and the son of an alpha no less. “Well, Teo, you understand, a goat in a house… it would… _poop_ everywhere.”

Stiles’s expression switched to approval. “Yes, Tay! Like Papa said to you in the bathroom, baby goats grow up to be big stinky goats. And they’re… _mean_. Really mean.”

“Gentlemen,” came the Sheriff’s voice from behind Stiles, who stepped aside so they were all standing in the kitchen. “May I be of some assistance? Am I hearing this correctly?” John continued, his attention all on Teo. “You asked if you can have a goat for a pet, kiddo?”

“Yes, Big Poppa. A baby goat.”

John crouched at his grandson’s side, tilted his head while he shook it thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, son. That would be in violation of the municipal code against farm animals in residential areas.—That means it’s against the law to have a goat.” He stopped till the frown on Teo’s face compelled him to add, “Unless you live on a farm.”

“Mm hmm,” Stiles hummed. It may have sounded like agreement but was in fact non-verbal commentary on his dad’s weakening before Teo’s invincible pout. No one was immune.

“Papa, can we live on a farm?”

After a deep breath and an eye-roll at Derek Stiles attempted more redirection.

“Listen, Tay,” he said. “We’re going to learn all about goats—starting tomorrow. We can even draw some pictures of goats— _baby_ goats!”

Teo’s eyes went wide at that idea.

“I want to draw baby goats now!” he cried and started away only to stop. “I don’t know how to draw a baby goat, Papa.”

“That’s OK. We’ll look at some pictures first.—But not now because we’re leaving soon, for dinner.”

“OK!”

Teo charged away again, only to encounter Melissa, back from her turn in the bathroom. She caught him up in conversation about non-goat subjects.

In the kitchen Derek was anxious to know, “ _Why_ are we going to learn all about goats?” he whispered.

“Because,” Stiles whispered back, “we’re going to learn that, yes, baby goats are adorable but they become big, stinky and—not adorable.”

With the aplomb he’d acquired through necessity of his elected position, “If I might intervene—again,” the Sheriff joined in, also whispering because he’d learned supernaturally sensitive hearing was absolutely a thing. “There’s this handy little word—Stiles, I’m really surprised you don’t remember it because I’m sure I said it to you on a daily basis at least for the first eighteen years of your life—”

Stiles was already making a face, then closed his eyes, waiting. He felt tempted to move his lips along silently as his father finished.

“—The word is ‘no.’”

“We say _no_ to him plenty!” Stiles hoped his glare made up for how quietly he’d had to say that.

“Funny, I must’ve lost my hear—”

“We just try,” Stiles interrupted, “a more constructive method.” He wanted to end with a vehement nod and a “Hmph!’ but instead had one of his mid-stream thought switches and added, “And why couldn’t you have visited a _bunny_ farm today?”

“Why don’t we go eat now,” Derek intervened before things got more out of hand.

And by things he meant his husband.

 

_Grazia’s Cucina_ was a family-style restaurant run by an actual family. This Stiles had learned during their first visit after Grazia herself found Teo too cute to resist and became their self-appointed server.

Their server that night was named Lucy but Grazia brought over the booster seat for Teo and kids placemat with mini-box of three crayons.

Stiles managed to keep quiet enjoying the sight of the grandmotherly woman and his boy engaged in conversation, which included of course Teo’s account of meeting the baby goats. But Derek was suddenly not so charmed by the very same scene.

“Stiles,” he attempted to mutter, “come with me to the restroom.”

It was not a request Stiles had entertained in years.

“ _What?”_ Stiles asked, baffled. “Is it urgent? Can we order first?”

“OK. Yes, let’s order first.—But it is kind of urgent,” Derek relented.

Stiles caught his father’s eyes staring suspiciously over the top of his menu.

As soon as Lucy left with their meal orders Derek tugged on Stiles’s elbow.

“ _Alright_ ,” Stiles groaned. He told Teo they’d be right back but when they passed in front of the Sheriff again Stiles noted his expression, a decidedly judgmental one.

“Re _lax_ , old man,” Stiles laughed. “You wouldn’t be thinking what you’re thinking if you knew how many times this afternoon Derek and I—”

“ _Stiles!”_ Derek hissed, with a yank on his arm.

Presence of mind restored, “Oh,” Stiles said, “Yeah,” checking the other end of the table where Teo was completely focused coloring something on his place mat.

Stiles flashed his dad a cheesy smile. “BRB!”

Together they hurried to the restroom while carefully avoiding looking at anybody along the way.

The restroom was single occupancy. Derek locked the door as Stiles stepped up to the urinal.

“What are you doing?” Derek nearly whined.

“I saw it and I had to go. Reflex.—What _is_ so urgent?”

“I’d rather say it to your face.”

Stiles swiveled his head in Derek’s direction but all he heard in response was, “Pay attention to what you’re doing.”

“Hey!” Stiles snapped. “My aim is true!”

After Stiles zipped up but before he reached the sink Derek stepped in front of him, taking him by the shoulders and enunciating each word with emphasis: “This is extremely important. We cannot let my parents find out about Teo wanting a goat.”

“What? _Why_?”

“Why? My father will build a pen and then he will get Teo a goat. _Goats_ , more likely.”

“Really? What about the ‘no farm animals’ thing?”

“The Preserve’s outside the city limit. Our nearest neighbors used to keep chickens.”

(Derek could remember hearing the rooster crow.)

“O—K.”

“And make sure your dad knows. And Melissa too: No telling Teo’s other grandparents about his goat-love until you’ve… _dissuaded_ him from wanting one.”

“Me? Why’m _I_ doing the _dissuading_?”

“You said you would, with your cute baby goat becomes big stinky goat story.”

Stiles just stared at his husband then asked, “You don’t think we really _do_ have a problem saying _no_ to him, do you?”

“No,” Derek answered perfectly self-assured. “We don’t. We’re… _parenting_.”

Stiles liked that. “Yeah! That’s right! We’re parenting!—And it’s not like we’re interfering with a viable career choice for him, right? In goat herding?”

“Go wash your hands.”

“You wanna make out a little?—Since we’re here?”

They’d no sooner clinched when a thump against the door signaled someone wanting to get in.

“If that’s my dad out there,” Stiles whispered, “there _will_ be a scene.”

“One minute, please!” Derek boomed at the door, while Stiles washed his hands.

It wasn’t his father, fortunately for everyone in the restaurant.

Returned to the table, Stiles behaved, but kept up his cheesy smile whenever he looked at his dad, though only a plate of fettuccine Alfredo with shrimp put a smile on the Sheriff’s face.

 

Two days later John arrived at the Stilinski-Hale household after his shift ended in the early evening. He carried a gift bag artfully stuffed with multi-color tissue paper.

He’d already informed Stiles that afternoon that he’d “gotten something” for Teo but he had refused to say what.

Stiles was relieved to see the bag. There wouldn’t be a living thing in a gift bag.

Would there?

Teo greeted his grandfather with his usual cheer, though he did not expect to be handed a pretty bag.

“This is for you, kiddo,” his Big Poppa said.

After a little prodding from his fathers, to get him past his puzzlement over getting a present when it wasn’t his birthday or any special day at all, Teo began pulling out the tissue papers one by one. (Stiles was resigned to the fact his son had inherited Derek’s infuriating habit of methodically unwrapping a gift.)

A soft but bulky thing inside the bag was wrapped in tissue too.

“What have you done?” Stiles whispered to his dad.

“Wait for it.”

“ _It’s a baby goat!”_ Teo squealed once he saw it, only then hastily stripping away the rest of the tissue. He hugged the goat immediately. “I _love_ it! I _love_ it!”

The Sheriff squatted to receive an eager hug from his grandson, not so easy while one arm still held the goat.

Stiles relieved him of it so Teo could thank his Big Poppa properly.

It gave Stiles the chance to see it was a quality plush toy, looking more true to life than cartoonish. There were even little buds of horns on its head and, except for its white legs, it was a fawn brown color—which possibly explained why Teo had insisted that of all his sixty-four crayons only the tan one was the “right color” for the goats they’d been drawing.

“Can I see it?” Derek asked him when Teo took back his toy pet and Teo was more than happy to show off its wonderful, amazing features, such as its felt hooves and its short, pointy tail, even as he discovered them himself.

“How’d you find that thing?” Stiles asked his dad, knowing it had taken some searching and also knowing his father was not in any way adept at internet shopping.

“Graeme may have helped me,” the Sheriff replied, which Stiles translated to Deputy Tara most likely doing the whole thing, from the online purchasing to the exquisite job of bagging it so decoratively too.

“I hope you compensated her well.”

“Of course.”

Holding the goat’s head Teo showed his daddy how it ate from his hand, then he goat-hopped away to demonstrate the funny way they jumped, dropping to his knees so his baby goat could caper on the floor. Then he stretched out, rolled onto his back and held up his baby goat in the air, regarding it with adoration.

“OK. Well done, Dad,” Stiles admitted, seeing how happy Teo was. “Thanks.”

Derek thanked him too.

“Can I go upstairs?” Teo asked. Not a typical request from him so close to his bed time but both his fathers figured he wanted his teddy bears, dragon, three wolves, and the rest of his plush menagerie to meet the newest member of the family. He’d done it before.

“We’ll go up and then you’ll get ready for bed?” Derek proposed as he lifted Teo into his arms.

Teo agreed—because that made him think of something.

“Say goodnight to Big Poppa then and thank him again, Tay,” Stiles said.

“Papa, can I sleep with my new baby goat?”

“Why not. What’s one more furry creature in bed with you. Sure.”

“Goodnight, kiddo,” the Sheriff spoke with a chuckle, but he was intrigued. “Are you gonna keep calling it your baby goat or are you gonna give it a name?”

His papa or daddy always helped Teo name his toys but at that moment his baby goat felt like the most special thing he ever had. Being four years old, Teo remembered _everything_ , especially about special things. He looked at his grandfather, then at his goat. He grinned as he announced, “I’m gonna name my baby goat—” pausing as if for dramatic effect but really because he was still deciding, “— _Kiddo!”_

Stiles laughed and Derek cheered, “Good choice!” and Sheriff John Stilinski would smile for days, mystifying his colleagues, every time he thought about it.

**Author's Note:**

> "Grazia's Cucina" translates to "Grazia's Kitchen" (Grazia = Grace in English.) Cucina is pronounced coo-CHEE-nah which is where Stiles hears "coochie."


End file.
